Wicked Winds
by Aserenity
Summary: Annette is unamuzed by her new country life. Could a strange tribe of visitors change this? Could love be found within the sudden winds?Disclamier: I own the characters as well as the entire plot.chocolat just inspired
1. Wicked Arrival

Part One

Summer of September 1945

Chapter 1

It was courteous, not necessary, but courteous. Daddy was on the bed now, steadily in breath, his silent sighs corresponding to the up down, steady rhythm of his stomach and chest.

"Good morning Father." I opened the door, seeing that he hadn't moved his position since yesterday or the day before. (or the day before, for that matter.) He didn't respond nor did I expect him to.

"It looks like a beautiful day as always." I cheered pretending, feeling odd talking to someone who wasn't even close to consciousness. It wasn't a beautiful day. I hated the hot sun, the warm, humid nights, everything about the countryside. The bugs, the open fields, the smell of the dirty lake, it was all so horrid.

Another sigh answered me. I acted as though he was responding and we were having the smallest bit of a conversation. Perhaps he would say, "Yes my dear, Annette. It's a gracious morning." He would then take my hand in his and I would sit upon his bed. He would tell me stories of how he met my mother and of my birth. He would then have this odd smile as my grandmother had, and he would make me laugh with the wobbly tone of his voice.

So I continued on with the discussion as if he would happen to wake up any moment now to the sound of my voice.

"I went into town yesterday. It's very different from the city, very quiet and concealed. Today I shall be going there again to get more eggs and milk, possibly a book to read. Then to Elizabeth and Isaiah's house. Tomorrow I'll go to church, to pray for you and mother of course. And.." I rambled as I opened the curtains to the outside green grass, and yellow flowers. There was no excitement, no thrill. The rural area sickened me.

I stopped talking. My words were worthless, lost in the steady breathing of the stranger besides me. I wanted to scream, to tell him how much I hated this place, this town, him. I wanted him to wake up, to see me here in wrath, so I could get out of this forsaken place. Back to my life, to the city, to my mother, anyway from this horrid man and his reasons…Away from these humdrum days, melting into one long week…

My days consisted of a dense fog, through and through I daydreamed while in the middle of house work, cleaning for a man who has done nothing for me. I washed his floors, his windows, his clothes. I kept his house in order and repair. I was his aid, attending to every whimper in his breath, drabbing cooling compresses to his head. It was sickening.

After the morning chores, I changed into a white and blue cotton dress and heels and was off to the only town within ten minutes time. The smell of summer grass and weed's pollen greeted me as I stepped out and into the meadow, making my stomach instantly turn. The streets of the city were far more difficult to follow and navigate, so I collected my directions easily within my three days stay. To the northwest rest the sparkling turquoise waters of the lake, where children swam and parties were thrown, where fishers waited just off the shore for that night's dinner. Attached and north of the lake was the narrow river. The waters seemed to be the only economy to its citizens. The farthest east of the lake was a small town consisting of little shops, a bakery, bar, and church. To the west stretch the deep green fields and cloudless, light blue skies, where little houses and huts stood in the clearing. My father's house was here, the middle of this, on top of a grassy hill in back of a field of tall sunflowers.

I wondered often who had planted those flowers of golden pedals. My father didn't seem like the flower type, or at least I guess. I can just remember, as a little girl, how he would complain and pester my mother into making an investment in a tobacco or cotton field. Money and figures was all he ever talked about and he ever knew. So who had planted the luminous flowers? Sarah perhaps my father's intranstist?

My heels left their mark in the dirt, still moist from last night's light rain. The sun stood bright in the sky, hurling its rays upon me, bringing me to squint at the small village ahead.

Small stands and markets where opened. As I passed by a bakery I inhaled a deep breath containing smells of yeast and sugars. I heard a small radio near by and boisterous laughs retorted by the butchers to my left. Familiar faces greeted me with the tipping of hats and hollow hellos. I was still known as the newcomer by all those who existed in this small place. I was watched and poked at by the old women, judged by the adults, peered curiously at by the children. It was as though the whole town waited for me to create an error, to embarrass myself and ashame my father's name. I entered in a quaint market, purchasing eggs and milk, completing the trivial promise I made to Daddy.

Then I reached the book store, browsing though not purchasing anything. As I scanned the shelves of the thick novels, I felt a pair of eyes on my back. As I whipped around, a group of women stared awkwardly at the floor, leaving me feeling slightly uncomfortable.

At about two at noon I arrived at Elizabeth's farm. My friend greeted me with a warm hug. Then quickly sticked her small head through the door. In alarm, she looked out, into the empty land, in all directions.

"What's wrong Elizabeth? You act as though a murderer was on the loose." I puzzled return my gaze to Isiah who was fiddling around with a knife and some wood.

"Might as well be a murderer. Lousy Scum." Isaiah muttered under his breath. His muscles ripped as he worked, his tan hands diligently craving what appeared to be a little animal of some sort.

Elizabeth's dark eyes darted around nervously.

"What do you mean? What's happening?"

"At the river..." she stuttered, folding her fidgety hands around in her lap. "there's visitors."

"Oh?" my eyebrow rose defensively.

"No not like you, a visitor. These visitors aren't welcomed."

"Elizabeth, come out with it." Isaiah frustativly said. "They're Pond Scum, Lake Rats, Town Pirates."

"Pirates?" I almost laughed out loud to the names simple folk gave to such travelers. "Oh?"

Elizabeth nodded quickly. "Thieves."

Isaiah placed his knife down and looked towards the window.

"They come here on our land and earn our trust. Then, they steal our wives and children and sell us their deceitful scams."

"Mary mother of God." Elizabeth wheezed making the sign of the cross suddenly.

"Have you had these 'visitors' before?"

"Yes. They think we're stupid, because we have our values. They come here with their alternative religions and beliefs. With such…modernism.." Isaiah spit out the words in disgust as Elizabeth made another sign of the cross.

"But I am modern. I'm from the city. My father is pretty wealthy. He owns the cottage on Medora Road. And my mother owns a mansion in the West Brick Estates. Why not turn your noses up at me?"

Isaiah shook his head at my ignorance.  
"You don't understand. These people, they're unlike you. They have dark skin and travel in tribes. They sell their weird potions and smells. They bring fights to our land, hell itself breaks loose. They wake us late in the night with their crude parties and music. We don't want them-sort here. We don't need any trouble."

"Are they black men?" I asked, curious of these strangers.

"No, not exactly. They have brown skin, not of a black man, but one in the same violent beast. Indian I suppose. I don't know and I don't want to."

The nights were dreadful. Mosquitoes bit at my flesh, and the prediction smell of rain filled the pollinated air. The sun was barely appearing on the horizon turning the sky a beautiful pink and orange. Perhaps the sky was the only thing I loved in this strange place. It was clear and calming, satisfying to watch the bright colors and the night take shape. The meadow, although quiet, sounded of crickets in the distance. It was by far my favorite time of the day. I sat on a wooden benched a novel or diary in my hand and read into the darkness. Then, I would go inside away from the horrid night and its moist air.

In the direction of the lake, tall touches were lit. If I could see just a few more feet into trees surely I would sight the alienated travelers from exotic places. I wondered of their strange potions and smells, of their skin and culture.

I turned the next page in my novel. It was about China, the populated streets and cuisine, the advance technology and traditional holidays. The New Year seemed to be the greatest them all. Parades and late parties crowded the animated streets. The stores and houses were decorated in reds, yellows, and oranges. Ornamented dragons were carried among the backs of people. Lit lanterns were displayed in many colors and shapes. It all seemed so spectacular, to live in such a lively city around that time. I felt as though I had traveled to China hearing the different tongues and smelling the different food. Seeing all the lights...

When night swept the sky, I lied awake in my unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house, dreaming of these places, these exciting experiences. I drifted into the lightest sleep, as slight shadows displayed against the unfamiliar walls.

The smell of rain woke me up the next morning. It was Sunday, the Lords day and though this day was filled of rejoice, rest, and prayer, a testy gray spilled over the light blue sky. Small particles of water clinched to the window sills, and the grass outside. I dressed in my yellow Sunday gown away, detest the mood and the depressing weather outside. I made sure my light hair was tied properly in its yellow ribbon, and that not a thread fled on my dress. I was representing dear Father and his good name. His false and cheap good name…

I said my good byes to him and left the large cottage, following its course and rocky dirt road to the main fence. I ran my hand on the wet white wall, like a little girl, feeling the strange texture of its chipped paint and water.

A sudden wind came making me shiver vigorously, so suddenly. In this strange wind I smelt foreign scents and spices. They nipped at my nose, tempting me. I then heard peculiar singing and laughter. Then, I had an unusual sensation in the pit of my stomach. Inquisitive chants and fragrances mingled into the September country air. I had a feeling, a sudden curiosity. I turned and saw the wind had come from the lake and its connected river.

As people gathered by the church, a certain suspicion and fear was in the air. The men stood aside from their wives, leaning again the church wall, talking amongst themselves, and sharing a single cigarette. There was nervous, alert, yet impassive expressions shone on their faces. The women were quite the opposite. They crowded in little clusters, sharing bits of information and gossip about the new company here. They chatted loudly and fast, ending after the other had just began, reminding me of the hens at Elizabeth's farm.

As I found Elizabeth, she seemed to be in the middle of it all, clenching her small womb with her equally small hand.

"Better keep that baby away from them. Better stay clear." An elderly named Maria warned, pointing her bony finger to Elizabeth's stomach.

"Yes. Better not cross their paths." Her only daughter, also named Maria, added. "They use witchcraft."

"Witchcraft?" a sudden scornful laugh left from my lips, silence can from the once rowdy crowd of women, their attention no long on Elizabeth, but on me.

The younger Maria's lip curled.

"Is this funny to you? Elizabeth's baby is in dangerous circumstances and this is funny?"

Ashamedly I looked to Elizabeth. Her sight avoided me, and she gazed at the ground still clenching her womb.

"Hush up now, Maria. She don't know any better." Her mother scowled her, never turning her crazed eyes from me. Of course I didn't know any better. I was an outsider, a new comer and no one had a right in telling me so. They pitied me. The daughter of a wealth sick man, lost in a comma. And because of this, they gave me kind smiles and greeted me into their private community. But I knew better. I knew the whispers hidden behind the warmth of their smiles.

"I didn't mean it." I pleaded to Elizabeth and the crowd of women.

"It don't matter." Elizabeth whispered suddenly, giving a small smile. "It don't matter much, since they don't even show their faces to the town. No need to worry much."

And while the chatted began again and all attention was off of me, I thanked Elizabeth silently.

Church droned on as usual, in Latin, but this Sunday was certainly different. People fidgeted nervously in their seats, even more then usual. The women fluttered their fans rapidly at the humidity that hung in the church. Even the priest's mind appeared to be preoccupied at the moment. It seemed oh so chaotic, from my perspective. It was also exciting, since it seemed this was the only change from normality the folk usual experienced.

As church filtered out into the now sunny and humid air, goodbyes were exchanged and everyone went back to their usual Sunday chores, but every so often I saw the people peering over their shoulders on their ways home.


	2. The Dance of Gypies

Chapter 2

The sweat clung to my light cotton dress, as I pulled the stubborn weeds from the flower bed. The sun held high in the sky still, though it was late in the afternoon. It seemed the sun loved torturing me with its blistering rays. I would have enjoyed this sun, for in the city, as there were gas fumes and rain clouds always in the sky, so one couldn't experience such weather as the clear sky this was. But the air was anything, but clear. It was a wet heat. The rain from the morning still draped in the feeling of the outside, since water particles still gasped to the edge of tree branches and the air was still thick. Oh was it thick…and wet…and hot.

It annoyed me, the though of I didn't have to be here, pulling these weeds for an ungrateful man, but I wasn't to speak unkindly of the sick now was I? If I had any kind of a soul, I was obligated to be here and tend to him, the stranger, the man that left us with nothing, but pain and utter despair. But my darling father was sick. I would burn in hell for not taking care of him. He was still and will always remain my father, though how often I wish that part of me could just disappear. Mother had wanted me to come, though I had resisted. If I was to get anything from the will, I would have to care for him first, she had explained to me numerous times.

My manipulative Auntie Rose dragged me out here. And I mean literally 'dragged'. She pulled my wrist and heaved me out my mother's estate and into her buggy.

"You are part of this family now no matter what that witch says." She often referred to my mother as a witch, the person that made my father miserable, so miserable he lived two lives, had two wives, two homes, two families.

"If you want anything of a reward, you'll have to earn it." She threatened to me one summer morning. As much as I hated to admit, we needed the money. My sister Claudette and mother need the money. Claudette wanted to go to a college somewhere off the coast of Maine and to afford the best as she deserved we needed money. My mother was recently disabled and in a wheelchair, so she hadn't a chance to go back to work. What was I to do, except go to my father's cottage, his second home by the way, in the middle of no where? I wanted everything he had left to me in that will, and would do anything to get it. And I would get it no other way then to care for him during the comma.

"Please Annette." My mother had pleaded with me the night before. It was all his fault, we were scrambling around for anything we could get nowadays, all his fault my mother's face was buried in her wrinkled hands. "I know it will be hard for you, living on your own with that… man." She spat.

"But we have not a choice. Sarah has left him and Aunt Rose would just gape at the fact of leaving her perfect home to take care of her only brother, her only family left. We're all he has at the moment."

I knew this. And of course by 'we' she meant 'I'. Claudette was in school now, and mother was in no state of mind or body to aid for the man that had left her with nothing. So it was just I, now pulling weeds from a muddy flower bed, in front of a house where within lied a man that knew nothing of me nor did care.

A brisk wind came again, and I smelt the smoke of a near by fire. Who in their right mind would be cold enough to light a fire on a hot evening as this? Seeing that the sun was going down quickly and the last weed was pulled, I decided to take a short bath and then find out.

Of course I had already **knew** it was **them** -the strange visitors from the lands beyond here. I dressed in my best gown, a scarlet dress, with a plunging neck line and long length. Surely the towns people would gape at me if I was to arrive in town dressed as this. But I was not heading for town, but in the opposite direction to the lake.

I snuck towards the front door, almost laughing at myself for tiptoeing. The man was unconouious! I made it to the outside air in no time, the sneering sunflowers staring at me and moving slightly in the light winds. The sky was a great pink. This would just be the time when I went into the house not out of, for night would come within ten minutes. I followed the familiar dirt path to the main road, but turned in the adjacent direction. I stopped only to smell the wonderful aromas and sensations in the air. Spices once again filled the evening space. I heard chants and a strumming guitar in the distance and within each step it grew louder. My stomach began doing flips and my breath lightened. In no time I would see these alienated nomads. It was exhilarating.

Closer the lit torches appeared down the main dirt path towards the lake. I could smell the incense stronger now. It burned a deep hole in my throat and made me instantly drowsy. As the small camp site came into view, I had a slight feeling to return back to the cottage, but the entrancing lights, smells, and music beckoned to me, leaving me to drown into their soothing sensations. I suddenly grew scared through my excitement. Were these mysterious aliens as menace as the town's people claimed? What if they took be aboard their ship never to be seen again, and without a trace to my mother and sister?

Instead of strolling in on their party, as I planned, I hid behind surrounding trees in search of some kind of answers to my haunting questions. At last I had found what I was in search for.

The torch lit path led to the dock, where a fire ablaze and meat of some sort cooked. Its seasoned and smoky aroma filled my nostrils and instantly made my stomach rumble. Three men sat close to the fire, their backs turned to me. From the distance, I saw the same bronze skin of all three, the skin of their land and ancestors.

They seemed normal to me and dressed in reds and blacks their attire seemed quite presentable. T he three men by the fire all wore black slacks and satin black vest. Beneath their vest were maroon shirts. Though a very gothic fashion was represented by the strange visitors, their laughs and humble strums of the guitar said something else. They were regular people, dressed in the clothing of their land. I almost laughed out loud of the crazed and shallow talk of the town's folk.

Men and women soon filed out of the ship, holding crates and such for the celebration. I found myself studying the women more then anyone else.

They wore long gowns of black, purples and reds all arranged in years the other one upheld. The elder women that spoke the language of their land, wore black robes, dragging across the floor and black scarves around their face. The younger women hair was in plaining sight. It was long and rich as the men's flowing freely. Some had braids intertwined with golden tread, other's had bandanas restraining their hair away from their faces.

A woman about my age, lit another fire and the elder women brought a pot of other strong spices. They seemed to be making a zesty stew. This made my mouth water even more.

Children also filed out of the boat, wearing normal clothes of the town's children, except theirs were simpler arranging in colors of tans and whites.

The children ran and played by the surround trees where I stood and quickly I got worried. What if I was spotted?

"Mady!" A little girl pulled the arm of the man strumming the guitar. His side was turned to me and I instantly blushed. He was one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

"Mady, there's a **memelose** in the trees! Come see!" the little girl pleaded to the breath-taking man. My heart throbbed recklessly.

"There is no **memelose** in these parts. They're in the town late at night, in search of wondering children!" He threaten, a charming smile swept onto his face. My knees almost bulked. Perhaps it was time to go out of hiding. It was considered rude.

"But Mady!" The girl looked in my direction again. "I see her! She's a real life spirit!"

Before I knew what was happening, I stepped out of the trees. The visitors all stopped what they were doing and looked at me in great surprise and suspion. Some even gaped at me.

"Hello." I said kindly, the feelings of fear coming back to me once again.

"It's the **memelose**." The girl whispered quietly, her voice almost escaping in the sudden wind. "I told you, Maddy."

"Sorry if I caused any interruption." I said too suddenly.

"What exactly are you doing here?" The man known as Maddy eyed me susioiously.

"I…well." What was I doing here, exactly?

"Look, we didn't kill your cat, I didn't brake your fence, and I didn't summon Satin against your crops, okay? You simple folk need to just give up your close minded ways and stop accusin'."

"I didn't come here to accuse."

Maddy's eyebrows rose. Everyone stood waiting.

"I came here to welcome you to Harvey."

They all continued to glare at me in silence, testing if what I said was true.

Suddenly a weak, crackling laugh summoned from the crowd. Everyone turned their gaze from me to the old lady dressed in black. She began to laugh uncontrollable and soon like a disease, it infected the whole group. I stood their, immobile, unsure what to do and why they were laughing.

The elderly laughing woman limped over to me, her cane clinched in her wrinkled hands. Her dark, mouse like eyes looked into mine, making me feel instantly warm and comfortable inside that I almost smiled. It was a strange effect the lady casted upon me.

"Okay." She declared, taking my hand in her's. "We make you food and music."

Her voice was cracked as her soft hands, but sure enough it was as soothing to me as her eyes. The other visitors seemed to lighten up as well, returning back to what they were doing.

"What's your name, Dear?" Another old woman grasped my cheek roughly, making me almost wince in pain.

"Annette. Sorry if I am any kind of intrusion, I'll turn back now if you wish…"

"Pish Posh!" The women muttered, linking my arm in hers and led me to the group of women around the, now boiling, pot. "My name is Siberia and this is my daughter Poitu." She pointed one boney hand to a gorgeous lady with rich skin and hair. She batted her eyelashes at me and said hello. I smiled politely.

"That laughing kook over there is Peenia." Siberia then introduced me to the laughing, kind woman who was the first to greet me in the group. Peenia then muttered something in a distance tongue and the ladies giggled in response.  
"Pay no attention to them! I am fine in health and mind!" Siberia claimed, shaking her head in Peenia's direction. As Siberia turned around, Peenia held up an imaginary glass in her hand, drank it and pointed to Siberia, as if demonstrating what Siberia did in her free time. I laughed quickly, so she would not catch me. But Siberia paid no attention. She continued with her introductions.

"That is Willie, my ne-tu…net-fu…" (Siberia stumbled on her English but quickly covered it by, "my sister's son.") She pointed to the man tending to the fire, with a large thick braid down his back. He gave me a brief wave, while eyeing me up and down and went back to the fire.

"This is Alsha, me don't know how he is in relations to me though." She shot him a confused look and shook her head.

"And the dashing boy right here is Madden. He is my cousin's son." Sibera then sat me down in a chair next to the fire. I sat across from the beautiful man named Madden. He glanced at me quickly and I looked to the ground. "Hope ye be hungry, Deary. We're havin' a feast!" I smiled as the insane lady walked away.

"So why are you really here then? Doing some spying on us for the council? It's a free land, Love, we're allowed to go where ever we see fit." Madden's voice kept low as if he didn't want the small tribe to hear.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I replied bluntly, looking back at his dense gaze. "I've only been here a few weeks, so its unlikely I know if there is even a council in the first place." His eyes were so deep and captivating. The single flame of the fire reflected in them.

"Oh Mady, leave the girl alone. You're so damn paranoid." Willie winked at me slyly. "Besides its not every day we get such fine, fine, company. We wouldn't want to scare her away now would we?"

"So you say you just came to these parts. Where did you come from?" Alsha asked inquisitively, as if testing if my facts were true.

"Lonsonberg." I replied with a sigh. The meat seemed ready now, its sauce dripping off and into the fire. A large burly man appeared, sinking a knife in the moist meat cutting thin slices.

"Hey Areesh say hello to our friend here, Annette." Willie arched his eyebrows and gave me a hinting look again.

"'Ello." Areesh's eyes glared at me then back to the meat once again.

Unexpectedly music played, sounding off that supper was ready. A group of men played many instruments including those I had never seen before.

The woman seemed to know the words and sang to it while dishing out the unique broth.

"Deary, get a plate and join us, yes?" Siberia waved over to me.

I couldn't wait to fin out if the food tasted as delicious as the smell.

The kind crowd gave me a bowl of the brew, strange, sweet bread, and a shaving of the meat. And it did taste as delectable as anything I had ever tasted. The exotic spices and taste lingered into one satisfying bite, making me close my eyes in delight.

"Try a little of this." The boys around the fire coaxed to me. Madden watched at a distance diagonally from the fire. They handed me a small cup filled of purple juice. Its strong scent of alcohol made my noise tingle. I drank the sharp liquid in one define gulp and felt it burn a pleasing hole in my stomach.

"Is this safe?" I asked naively, when Siberia was near.

"Of course!" She declared taking a drink herself. "Its old machine. Good for the blood and nerves. Handle it with care though. Salute!"

The exotic food and music made the experience so worth while. After people finished eating, they danced a cultural dance encircling one large fire. Around the women's feet, bells of silver were tied making blissful noise at every step. They reminded me of gypsies and perhaps they were, twirling with scarves of oranges and reds.

Willie and Alsha left the two of us, to join the dance. Soon we were alone, sitting besides a burnt out fire.

"I apologize how rude I was before, though you can't blame me. It was unthinkable we would get such a polite visitor." Madden gazed at me with softer eyes. I blushed contently in pride.

"Its quite alright." I watched the small flame flicker in and out of the charred wood.

Madden, at once stood up and held out his hand. I stared at him with puzzlement.

"Come on." He reassured. "We're going to dance."

"I'm not sure..I know how to do this.." I stuttered in pure uneasiness.

"I'll lead then. Any bloke can do it with two feet."

I took his rough, warm hand in mine and he led me towards the music.

He kept his hand over mine and placed his other on my waist. My skin tingled under the warmth. I grasped his solid shoulder delicately and we were off, dancing into the dark, just the flamed torches reflecting in his eyes.

"It's a sort of waltz. Do you know how to waltz?" His breath touched my cheek.

"Yes."

"Do you know it well?" Madden teased.

"Yes!"

"Its like a waltz but fast. Very fast and has a simple seductiveness to it." He laughed as I stepped on his foot in anxiety. Did he just say seductive?

"Relax. I thought you said you knew the waltz well."

"I do. Perhaps you were just taught wrong."

He laughed again and changed the pattern of his feet, his hand more distinctly on my waist. I followed well, changing the tempo of my stubborn feet, to a faster paste. My waist twisted as he directed in circles, his eyes never leaving mine.

And then we were one. One in the same movement and breath.

The song instantly became faster, and I tried so desperately to keep up. We twirled around the ground now, in the dark evening sky. We were a lot closer, nothing in between us. I'm sure he could feel my heart beat rapidly, as I felt his.

The music had stopped as abruptly as it began, and we took time to let go of each others bodies and eyes.

"Come with me." He whispered after quick gasps of his weary breath. He let go of my hand and placed his in his pockets. I folded mine awkwardly and followed him.

He led me to a top of a hill, overlooking the lake and campsite. A million, perhaps trillion, stars twinkled down on us. I took a large gulp for air. I had never seen the night before in this rural area. I had avoided it, much like my father.

"Its beautiful." I murmured in awe.

"Yes." Madden cooed softly. I felt his eyes on me. "It is."

I glanced back at him, blushing uncontrollably.

Madden cleared his throat and whispered again. It seemed strange to use normal voices in such a place like this.

"Who are you staying with, if you are a visitor?"

"My father." I said, not noticing the bitterness in my voice till later.

"If you can call it staying." I added.

He faced me now, peering at me questionably.

"He's in a comma right now. He's sick. He doesn't know what's going on and if he ever wakes up, which is unlikely, he won't know who I am."

"I'm sorry for your lost. Death here, unfortunately, is considered a sorrowful act."

"He's not dead, yet. Just sick." I said firmly.

"If he can't see your face, or breathe this sweet air, or experience anything… If he is not living what is he?" Madden turned to me, his eyes filled with lost and grief.

It was silent then. I hadn't a thing to say, nor anything to consummate.

"I'm sorry for your lost." He muttered, staring at the skies again.

I nodded quietly.


	3. Distractions

Chapter 3

Distractions

"Good morning Father." I cheered, but not the same as always. I actually felt it in the large knots in my stomach and pacing heart. "Today a visitor is coming."

He did not hear me, so implying he had, he would have said "who?"

"Well. It's this lovely man. He offered to fix the shutters and in return I buy groceries for his family. Its great isn't it? No one spends money in this town, they trade and collect, collect and trade. It's awful though, that the kind people can't come to the town themselves. Madden, that's his name by the way Father, says that if they were to go in the store, no one would sell them anything. It's a shame. They're such nice people."

I presumed that he would of said, "And how do you know this Annette?"

Then I began telling him of the party and people, dancing and food. I could feel my stomach flipping continuously as I told him all this. But of course he didn't sense my excitement, nor heard anything I had just spoken.

"Dr. Brown is coming this afternoon, Father around two." I reminded him, defeated and some what annoyed as I returned back to work.

A few hours later came a hollow knock from the front door. I adjusted my shirt and hair, applied fresh lipstick and opened the house to one of the most exotic and most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on.

He wore black slacks, as well today, with suspenders and a white shirt below, presenting his solid skin and muscles underneath. A smile swept onto his face as I opened the door.

"Annette. Your home is very exquisite, very bountiful, indeed. I'm guessing its one of the largest cottages in town, hmm?"

"Well, it is quite big.."

"Big.. big is not an exception.. Huge, Love, its huge." He teasingly interrupted and let himself into the house.

"Are you related to the queen or something?"

"No. well I don't know. My father bought this house without even letting us knowing, so I have no clue where he got the money." I said impatiently, wondering when he intended on fixing the shutters.

"Is your father here?" I almost laughed at the dumb question. Did Madden think he could merely get out of bed and walk?

"Sorry." Madden then said embarrassedly, realizing how stupid the question was.

"Do you want to see him?"

"No… I really should get to work.. I brought my own tools.." He said briefly and walked out the door.

I giggled slightly at the uneasiness of his voice when I suggested to visit my ill father.

I did work as well outside, continuing the persistent weeds on the side of the house that I had neglected to pull out yesterday.

Behind the corner of the wall, I continuously peered at Madden working. He was talented with his hands, attaching nails and paste to the rusted shutters. As he stood to look at his job, Madden pulled back his dark, slightly curly hair from his face with one hand, and placed a slender finger on his chin in a pondering position. Deciding it needed another nail, he bent down, his shinning hair shadowing his face once again.

His bronze hands work delicately and so it brought me back to the time when we were dancing, his hands touching me, his breath caressing my cheek, as we twirled around the dark night.

I stared out of space day dreaming about this, that soon I hadn't noticed my secret spying was no longer concealed, but obvious to him. I quickly snapped out of the trance and looked at him. He was smiling victoriously.

I promptly turned back to the weeds, and hide behind the corner so he could not see my face grow red.

"Would you like some lemonade? Need some water? Anything?" I offered after I had dusted my father's living room.

He took a glass from me and sat on the porch steps. I remained standing restlessly.

"When do you think you will finish?" I questioned, giving something to ease the silence.

"In no time." He gave a teasing laugh and wiped his greased hands on his slacks. He then took a satisfying gulp. "If you stop staring at me that is." Madden quickly added.

"I was not… staring." I shot back, feeling my cheeks heat up quickly.

"Yes you were. But I don't blame you of course." His pride gleamed in a sneering smile.

"Its amusing how conceited you are. Perhaps I was just making sure you didn't do a, as they say, half-assed job?" I triumphantly snapped back at him, storming into the house. He followed me, a mischievous smile played on his face, as if I was some kind of entertainment.

"Oh come now, Love. It's fine. You were gawking at me. Just admit it and I'll move on."

"This is childish!" I claimed, rinsing the glasses in the sink.

"No what's childish is how you're not taking responsibility for your distracting and some what rude actions."

I faced him, his laughing eyes glaring straight at me. They were so dark, as close to black as brown could ever be. Within them held the key to his very being, I knew. They held fire towards me, such passion. Never did I think so many feelings could latch onto me in one simple glance. It was to intense causing me to look away in defeat. I felt his smile, like the blistering rays of sun through the nearby window.

"I brought the money for the supplies we'll need. Hopefully it covers it."

"Yes of course." I stated.

I heard him place the small pouch of coins on the table and walk away. His footsteps stopped unexpectedly by the front door and he said something so incredibly unimportant, I almost laughed.

"Your door hinges creak. I could fix that."


	4. A Purple Kiss

Chapter 4

A Purple Kiss

There is talk in the town. At first I thought I was just being paranoid, but now I know. They don't like how I am being somewhat friendly to the new visitors and not hostile like I am expected to be… like they are. And the simple folk called themselves Catholics! Isn't it known to their faith, especially, that everyone is suppose to be welcomed?

At first this alarmed me, the talk and the rumors. But now I find myself not concerned at all, not even giving it a second thought. Madden's family had been even more gracious to me than the town's people had. They invited me to dinners, greeted me with warm hugs, and made small talk. They didn't care about opinions or drama, only about good food, laughter, and music. They made life, the gifted that was often the most troublesome and complicated, into one large party.

"Are you coming tonight?" Madden had asked me on breezy summer day. He had just fixed the door hinges and the moister of his rich skin was shimmering in the golden sunlight. His hair blew softly in the slight wind and played gently at his forehead and cheeks. I found myself wanting to run my fingers through that hair.

"What's tonight?" I glanced up at him, his playful eyes greeting me.

"The festival of the full moon, of course. You are to come and celebrate with us." Madden squinted his eyes to the distance, and to the skies. I wonder what he saw.

"That sounds wonderful." I whispered, in delight of just admiring his beauty.

He displayed a smile, one like a sight of a million stars. So amazing, so captivating, that my knees grew weak just thinking I had made him smile.

I had also made him laugh days before when he was fixing one of the small windows in the front. I was watering the sunflowers and the ground became very grimy and slick. Soon I slipped and fell into the mud, embarrassed and hoping that he hadn't seen me at such an ungraceful moment.

Sure enough, Madden had and ran over, laughing. He than held up his long, slender hand, in reason that he wanted to help me up, but instead Madden came crashing down in the mud next to me. We laid there, his hand grasped in mine, covered in mud, and laughing for an eternity.

"Poitu, sorry to bother you, but I haven't a thing to wear for tonight." I had come to the camp later that day a few hours before the celebration was to start.

"What's the big deal? You could wear a potato sack and Madden would still dance with you." She sighed taking down the dresses on the clothesline.

"What?" I questioned.

"Nothing." Poitu winked at me and drew her attention towards a purple dress. "Now this is what you should wear."

"I couldn't steal someone else's dress!"

"Don't worry about it. Its mine. Probably look better on you though. Try it on in that tent." She threw it to me in haste, her mind surely preoccupied by tonight's activities.

Feeling a bit strange trying on someone else's dress, I defeated, went into the tent and quickly started undoing my dress. As I just slid it over my shoulder, I heard a faint moan.

"Excuse me. I think you have the wrong tent." Madden came up behind me. Startled I pulled my dress back on and fastened the buttons with shaky fingertips.

"I apologize, Madden. Poitu told me to change in here and I thought it was vacant.. I'm sorry… I'll leave." As I turned he placed his warm hand on my, again, bare shoulder. His touch brought bumps all over my body. He started moving his hand from my shoulder to my neck, and kept his hand there. Madden's eyes were passionate, gazing at me in astonishment and intensity. I place my hand on his, now stroking my neck gentle, and felt him grow closer to me.

"Annette, are you done in there or what?" Poitu cried outside. I tilted my head back, giving a loud sigh, in disbelief and defeat that the entire instant was ruined, but Madden refused to let it go.

His hot breath grew to my neck and his lips gentle grazed a spot that was most delicate. My flesh tingled. He kissed that very spot again gently and whispered into it, "I have to go."

"See. It looks amazing!" Poitu declared placing a full length mirror in front of me. I stared at my reflection in a daze, my hand unconsciously going to the place on my neck when Madden had kissed, just minutes before.  
"Annette what's wrong? Don't you like it?"

I shook my head instantly, returning to this moment. Actually I loved it. It was a deep purple, a plush dress that clung to the areas that women were most notorious from and men enjoyed. It made my skin seemed very pale, but in an elegant way, like the contrast of white stars in the night skies.

I could only turn away from the mirror as Poitu uttered an admiring sigh.

"You look beautiful! Oh let me do your make up for tonight! I just have the perfect stuff."

I nodded, blushing faintly at the compliments and I followed her farther in the white canvass tent. She took out a cherry oak box, with cravings of exotic flowers and markings decorating it in the most secretive way. Poitu opened the latch revealing the contents of different color powder and perfumes. The fragrances sunk deep in my nostrils, making it almost hard to breathe.

"Close your eyes." She said, while taking out, what looked like, a thin piece of black charcoal. "Do you trust me?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"Then close your eyes."

When I did, she lightly drew on the corner of my eye to the other side. I then felt her place a thin dust over my eyelids.

"Okay you can look."

I peered at myself in the mirror looking much like the other women in the tribe. My eyes were lined with thick black, almost to the point were they were feline-like.

The purple dust was also over the corners of my eyes complimenting the purple gown perfectly. I gave Poitu a big hug in stunned at my appearance.  
"Oh were not done quite yet." Her eyebrows rose and a mischievous smiled formed.

Chapter 5

"Are you ready?" Poitu asked, her voice light as the clouds in the sky. The sun was setting, leave trails of pinks and oranges in its place.

I was out of breath.

"No."

"And why not? Surely its not that hard." Her eyebrows were perched again as I lightly touched my feet on the dirt ground, the way she had taught me. Bronze dust clung to the air. This dance was utterly impossible, physically as well as mentally.

"Be more like a bar lady, less like a school girl." She placed her unbelievably cold hands at my waist, making my hips swing.

"I feel ridiculous." I muttered. I had seen Poitu do it before and I was a fool in telling her I wanted to learn.

"That's it! You've got it. Now just beat the tambourine with your steps…Yes…Good."

"Very good." A smug smile can on Maddy's face as he came out of nowhere to watched. His firm body leaned against a nearby tree trunk. I felt my face turn red and instantly stopped.

"No, don't stop on the count of us, Ms. Annette. You were just starting to get the hang of it."

"Well looky here. A live performance." Willy stood next to Poitu, his arm around her shoulders, his eyes on my hips. This made me even more uncomfortable.

"Is the festival ready to start?" I avoided Maddy's dense eyes and looked at the ground.

"Just about."


End file.
